


Nightmare in Parallax

by bittenfeld



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Experimentation, Chains, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Bonding, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Slash, alien torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final – chapter 9:  The bathroom door opened, and Spock stepped through from his cabin.  He’d just gotten out of the shower, and now wore only a towel cinched about his waist.  Compassionately he watched the figure lying on the bed.<br/>“Jim” he offered, “would you like some company tonight?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1: Never before had he ever guessed that he would one day willingly – eagerly – jump into bed with another man. Spock was indeed a masterful seducer. And Kirk didn’t care. He wanted to be seduced.

They made love that afternoon.

* * *

Jim Kirk rapped lightly on Spock's door from the bathroom adjoining their cabins. “Spock, it’s me,” he called, “may I come in?”

“Come,” the deep raspy voice allowed.

Kirk entered the dimly-lit quarters of his second-in-command. Back in the shadows of the alcove off the front room, Spock was kneeling upon his meditation stone, a short dark-brown gold-embroidered robe draped from his shoulders. Fruity incense fragrance wafted across Kirk’s path as he stepped closer to the motionless Vulcan. Candlelight flickered over the glimmering metallic IDIC tapestry on the near wall.

Spock opened his eyes and looked up at his commanding officer.

And once again Kirk felt an unannounced wash of pleasure in the Vulcan’s presence. Something beyond the friendship they had shared for twenty-five years, something beyond the deep subtle warmth which Spock radiated subliminally. Something akin to an excitement which Kirk’s subconscious refused to put a name to. He’d been feeling it for several weeks now, this strange shift in attitude toward his first-officer – definitely real and definitely something that embarrassed as well as pleased him.

He had wondered if Spock felt it too, or at least if the Vulcan had noticed a change in him. For the last week they’d both found mild excuses to avoid each other. Spock had taken command of graveyard-watch; and with Kirk in charge of day-watch, they rarely shared any substantial amounts of time together anymore. In fact, in the last three days, they’d probably seen each other only at the eight AM shift change.

“I’ve received new orders,” Kirk announced without preface. “It just came over my private comm-link. Top-secret, ‘for my eyes only’. I’ve already had the navigator change course. We’re on our way to the Minarian star-system.”

Rising gracefully from the stone, Spock nodded acknowledgement. “I detected a change in the engines. We are travelling warp-nine, are we not?”

“Yes. We’re going to the second planet circling Minarius. At warp-nine, we’ll arrive in one-point-seven days.”

Spock followed Kirk over to the small desk in the front room, and pulled out two chairs for them. “I was unaware that the Federation had any interest in the Minarian system. There are no civilizations on any of the planets, nor is there anything of commercial or military value.”

“Or so we were led to believe,” Kirk countered. “The change in orders was from Starfleet Commander Morrow himself.”

An upswept eyebrow noted the oddity, but Spock said nothing, in case he was not privy to this top-secret communiqué.

But Kirk went ahead with the details. “Evidently a Starfleet research team on the planet has been designing a long-range weapon, something with the Klingons in mind.”

“The Minarian system is within two parsecs of Klingon territory,” Spock mentioned. “But the Klingons have shown no more interest in it, that we know of, than the Federation.”

“So what better place to locate a secret base?” Kirk smiled a little, and Spock nodded thoughtfully.

“Anyway,” Kirk continued, “the problem is that perhaps the Klingons _have_ taken note of it recently. Less than an hour ago, Starbase Twelve received a distress call from the research base.”

“Is the base under attack?”

Kirk shook his head. “Morrow said he wasn’t sure. There’s a great deal of magnetic radiation in the area affecting scanners and communication. The transmission was garbled. Starfleet wants us to go there, look for signs of Klingon activity, then for me to personally go down to the base to ascertain if the secrecy of the research has been violated and coördinate rescue efforts of base personnel if necessary.”

Another thoughtful nod from Spock.

“So,” Kirk concluded, “that’s all we know for now. You’re due on the bridge in a few hours – if I’m informed of any more details later, I’ll let you know.”

“Very well,” Spock acknowledged.

For a long moment they both continued to sit there, neither speaking. Kirk felt the electricity of Spock's nearness once again keenly – why was it affecting him like this? Heat settled in his groin – hell, that wasn’t supposed to happen, and it particularly embarrassed him to happen right here in Spock's quarters. And in reaction he felt heat radiate from his face. A little awkwardly, he started to push himself up from his chair.

“Jim,” Spock interrupted, and the magnetism of his voice, of his presence stopped Kirk. The Vulcan hesitated momentarily, brow furrowed as he concentrated to word his next statements properly. “If you wish, perhaps we should speak now of a certain delicate matter which has caused some recent tension between us. I… dislike experiencing coolness in our relationship.”

Kirk settled back in his chair. Yes, they should discuss it now; there was no reason to delay any longer, wasting more time avoiding each other, pussyfooting around like nervous adolescents. “I agree,” he responded. “There has been some discomfort between us which is beginning to interfere with our competency of command. I’d like to clear the air. I don’t enjoy feeling distance from you either.”

“Are you aware of the cause of the problem?”

Kirk smiled a hesitant smile. “Not really, just that we aren’t interfacing as well as we usually do. Have you any idea what the trouble is?”

“Yes,” Spock replied assertively, without hesitation. “We are subconsciously joining closely as bond-mates. The union is awakening sexual feelings between us.”

Kirk’s muscles jumped; sensation needled into his solar plexus with the sharp realization that Spock was correct. Leave it to Vulcan acuity to express the blunt truth unvarnished and unprefaced. Kirk felt heat increase in his groin; dear lord, he was getting erection from the taboo excitement of Spock's intimate revelation. He said nothing, so Spock continued.

“Our closeness, our deep level of friendship exists because we are exceptionally attuned to each other. Our numerous mind-melds throughout the years have served to solidify that attunement. I am keenly aware of your feelings for me, and they have evoked responses from me as to a bonded soul-mate. I have attempted to attenuate the link by physically separating myself from your presence, but the bond will not be denied. I desire you as much as you desire me.”

Carefully Kirk nodded, trying to project a calm sureness which he didn’t feel. Pressure was increasing between his legs. He tried to sound as assertive as Spock – he didn’t succeed. “So, uh, how do you propose we solve this situation?” And as soon as he spoke, he decided that hadn’t been the right question to ask… because he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Spock's shoulders lifted. “We must mate. There is no other solution to this sequence of growth. We must become mates. Nothing else will quench the fires we are experiencing.”

Fire wasn’t the only thing Kirk was experiencing. The hard swelling of his genitals tried to override all other stimuli, _damn_! why was he responding like this? Inadvertently his gaze shifted to Spock's loins. A hard bulge pressed in the center of the Vulcan’s black uniform trousers. Spock made no self-conscious effort to conceal the obvious bodily action.

Kirk chuckled in his own sudden self-consciousness as he admitted, “I’ve never had anyone seduce me so forthrightly before.”

But Spock just shook his head. “This is not seduction, merely fact.”

“What are our other options?”

“None. We are being drawn together very surely because of who we are, and what we are to each other. We can refuse to join, but that will not dismiss the situation. If we choose to part, the separation will not give relief, but only cause us misery. This bond affects each of us physiologically as well as mentally and emotionally. It is not just a casual figment of our imaginations. You already know the truth of what I am saying.”

Now Kirk rose from his chair, walked a distance across the floor, as though pacing might ease the encroaching tension. He attempted to smile. “You know,” he admitted, “this is really getting to me. I can hardly stand sitting there with you, discussing this all so rationally and clinically and detached, when both of us are so obviously, uh, aroused.”

Spock rose, strolled over to him. “Then I suggest we do something about our arousal.”

“Right now?”

“Why not? Neither of us in on duty this shift. Do you wish to proceed?”

Kirk’s self-conscious, mildly-humorous expression glanced up at the taller man beside his shoulder. “I feel so awkward – this is all so dry and formal. Are Vulcans so proper all the time, even when they’re discussing having sexual relations?”

Spock shook his head. “No. There is a time for passion, just as there is a time for logic. If you wish, allow me to show you.” And then the tall sere Vulcan entered the bed-chamber, fingers unfastening his robe; after a slight delay, Kirk followed.

Spock discarded the robe neatly across the bedside chair, while Kirk nervously fumbled with the belt buckle and shoulder strap of his dark-red wool uniform tunic. He laid it on top of Spock's robe, then sat down on the bed to tug off his boots.

“Spock,” he questioned, trying to ask discreetly, and not succeeding very well, “do you know what to do? Have you, uh, ever done this with a man before?”

Spock's white pullover blouse followed the robe. “Yes,” he replied, and the answer surprised Kirk somewhat. “Whenever pon-farr has come upon me, I have joined with a temple priest on Vulcan. This has occurred six times since I matured.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just pon-farr again, instead of some kind of special bonding between us? Maybe you really just need to go back to Vulcan to the priest again. Maybe I’m not really the one you should be doing this with.”

But Spock shook his head again. “No. This is not pon-farr. It feels entirely different. Nor is it my time for pon-farr.

“You took leave last year – may I ask if that was for your time?”

Spock nodded. “I should not experience it again for another five-point-three years. And furthermore, you are experiencing strong physical and mental responses to me at this time. If it were only my pon-farr, you would have no sympathetic reactions.” He had removed his boots, and now stood before Kirk clad only in his trousers.

Kirk looked up at the deeply-etched weathered face over him, and could not deny the sympathetic reactions, nor the adrenalin flooding his bloodstream right then. Spock's half-naked body excited him despite any attempts to deny it. The sallow complected skin had lost the taut suppleness of youth, but then Kirk was no longer young either. Pulling his own white blouse over his head, he revealed a lightly-tanned chest and belly, not quite as flat and firm as years before, with sparse curly grey hairs about the two aureolae and down the torsal midline.

And then that severe angular Vulcan face leaned down close, and Kirk closed his eyes just before warm dry lips touched his own. Electricity sizzled from all nerve plexi, and an involuntary moan rumbled in his throat, while every muscle shuddered and surrendered beneath the intensity – every muscle except those between his legs. Spock's right hand held the back of Kirk’s head, and as the pressure of the kiss increased, Kirk thought he might very well come right there in his pants.

From a slight nudge of Spock's other hand on his bare right shoulder, Kirk took the cue to lie back on the bed, and as he did so, he felt all remaining resistance melt from his body. Spock had refused to call this seduction, but that was exactly what it was. The Vulcan climbed over him, renewing the kiss every time it inadvertently broke, then the long body stretched out over the slightly shorter, slightly huskier one beneath.

And then Spock's hands began to touch all over Kirk’s upper body while his mouth explored Kirk’s face and neck. Erotically a firm wet tongue prodded just beneath the left side of Kirk’s jaw; and in sharp response Kirk sucked in a quick gasping inhalation. The tongue worked harder, and Kirk’s vital-signs shot sky-high. His whole body squirmed beneath the Vulcan’s weight. Almost of their own accord, his knees flexed and spread, and Spock settled down between Kirk’s legs, asserting dominance; and Kirk realized that for the first time in his life he was submitting to a sexual partner, and more than that – that he wanted to submit and be taken by his seducer. Never before had he ever guessed that he would one day relinquish sexual dominance. Never before had he ever guessed that he would one day willingly – eagerly – jump into bed with another man. Spock was indeed a masterful seducer.

And Kirk didn’t care. He wanted to be seduced. Whether or not the two of them would indeed become life-long mates as Spock foresaw, Kirk at least wanted this hour in bed with his best friend. He’d do anything Spock wanted, just to hold onto this electric ecstasy for as long as possible.

_to be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk still spraddled the Vulcan on hands and knees, still worked slightly on the loosening intruder up his ass. “Hey,” he protested playfully, “don’t go to sleep yet. It’s my turn. You got me into this condition, now you take care of it – and that’s an order from the senior-most officer on this vessel!”  
> A smile teased over the etched face. “Indeed, Admiral, I shall take care of it – and you – very well.”

Never before had he ever guessed that he would one day willingly – eagerly – jump into bed with another man. Spock was indeed a masterful seducer.

And Kirk didn’t care. He wanted to be seduced. Whether or not the two of them would indeed become life-long mates as Spock foresaw, Kirk at least wanted this hour in bed with his best friend. He’d do anything Spock wanted, just to hold onto this electric ecstasy for as long as possible.

Spock's lips and tongue moved down to Kirk’s breasts, found one soft nipple to suck and tug erect.

Again Kirk groaned. His nipples weren’t the only things coming erect. Powerfully his swollen penis demanded release from the binding material of his trousers and briefs; the constraint of the garments was extremely uncomfortable now.

And then Spock's hand reached down between Kirk’s legs, gripped Kirk’s crotch firmly through the black gabardine. Kirk nearly cried out. He could feel a few drops of slick fluid ooze from the head of his organ and wetly stain his undershorts. Strong fingers manipulated the bulk of his testicles, the hard length of his shaft.

“Spock…” he gasped desperately as the groping hand squeezed his blood-engorged scrotum again, and lights exploded in his brain. “… oh god, Spock…” The wet material of his briefs slid damply over his belly. How could Spock himself stand the confinement of their trousers? Kirk’s hands interfered, pushed Spock's hands away to hurriedly unfasten the restraining pants and release his hot organ. A sigh of relief eased from his lips as his own hands caressed gently over the damp throbbing shaft and balls.

Spock drew up on hands and knees over Kirk’s body, looked down at the rose-swollen human genitals, leaned down briefly to brush gentle lips against wet glans, then took a quick interlude to rid himself of his own trousers and shorts while Kirk completed his divestment as well.

And then once again Spock lay down on the human, and now the mating began in earnest.

Their hot organs pressed together, slipped and slid, as Spock began rubbing all along the length of the sweaty supple body beneath him. His hands pushed beneath Kirk's back, groped down to soft buttocks, gripped Kirk’s loins hard to his own, rubbed, squirmed, while Kirk alternately clutched at the sheets and Spock's slender waist, then fistfuls of sheets again, head tossing listlessly side-to-side on the pillow, gasping, panting, hips thrusting up hard, vigorously, against Spock's genitals.

“Take me now, Spock,” Kirk gasped, words he would never have dreamed saying, “please let me take you… please, I can’t wait any longer…”

Spock's fingers worked between Kirk’s legs, his lips kissed grey-flecked brown curls at Kirk’s right temple. “I must take you first, we must meld as we join.”

“Then do it now,” Kirk nearly begged, his leaking wet organ sliding in Spock's manipulating hands. “Don’t make me hold out any longer…”

Then taking Kirk’s body with both hands, Spock rolled them over, rolled himself underneath, gripped Kirk’s thighs and spread them so that Kirk’s knees spraddled his waist, hunched over Spock's supine body. Swollen organs hung stiffly above Spock's belly, cock brushed cock, swollen heavy balls dangled, which caused Kirk slight discomfort. Kirk looked down at the slick-sheened olive-darkened shaft arching upward to meet his own deep-rose organ, lubricating fluid leaking from both wet tips, some of his own dripping onto Spock's organ and sparse pubic hair.

He leaned down to kiss Spock, Spock's mouth opened in invitation and his tongue prodded Kirk’s. Sensually they tasted each other, each trying to go down the other’s throat, penetrate intimately, demand ownership. Genitals throbbed, pulsed. The arousal of Spock's body beneath him was almost more than Kirk could bear.

Spock's fingers milked his own organ, grazed against Kirk’s overly-sensitive flesh; then one wet finger slide between Kirk’s buttocks, and Kirk gasped shock as the presuming digit touched his tender anus and pushed into his rectum. Involuntarily his internal musculature clenched around the intruder, but the intruder only continued to rub lubricating fluid inside him and stimulate very delicate nerves.

“Spock…” Kirk rasped weakly, head dropped limply to the Vulcan’s bare shoulder, ass up in the air, “… oh Spock oh Spock… please please please…”

Spock didn’t bother to answer the near-incoherencies, but now pulled his finger out to take hold of his fully-swollen organ and press it to the same delicate opening, thrust upward to attempt penetration, while whispering huskily into a small human ear, “Take it in you, Jim, take me inside you.”

Kirk obeyed, reached back to spread himself and guide the seemingly-huge ramrod into his inner parts. And somewhere in the inner part of his mind, he was aware that he had never done anything like this before in his life, he was copulating with another male and he didn’t care – no, more than that: he wanted to, wanted to so badly.

It was so big, he had never realized how big a male organ could seem to the one on the receiving end. The slick wet glans prodded hard, and Kirk strained to stretch the tight little orifice and allow the shaft into his body; he pushed down to sit on it with little grunts of exertion, and Spock pushed upward, a series of little thrusts, Kirk’s hand guiding; pushing, guiding, straining, stretching grunting.

The head entered. Kirk gasped shock, and Spock moaned relief. Penetration achieved.

Desperately Kirk panted, eyes squeezed shut, and held onto every bit of control he possessed to keep from orgasming right then and there and squirting his load all over Spock's belly. He wanted to save it for Spock's insides if he could possibly hold out long enough.

And then Spock began to move, thrust upward with his hips, push the rest of his wet shaft into Kirk’s wet rectum, get inside of him inch by inch, little by little, ever so slowly.

Pain shot through Kirk’s ass; Kirk winced, and muscles clenched tightly even though that increased the pain; cramps throbbed in his lower abdomen. “… don’t, Spock, stop, please stop…!” he hissed through gritted teeth, “… please, that hurts!...”

Spock paused where he was, just a short ways inside his human lover. The colonic muscles squeezed him tightly. Semen-wet fingers reached for Kirk’s face. “Relax, Jim,” he soothed, “relax and allow this… relax… relax…” And something settled even deeper into Kirk’s mind, something warm, soothing, familiar… and binding. And welcome.

The arrhythmic gasps settled into slower deeper breaths, and gradually the rectal muscles released their spasmic grip on the intruder. Slowly Kirk relaxed and began once more easing himself down on the hard bulk filling him inside. Sweat oozed out all over his skin.

“Take your time,” Spock whispered, partly to Kirk’s ears and partly through the mind-link. “I am taking you this way to allow you the greatest control over penetration. I have no wish to harm you. I want it to be as pleasurable for you as it is for me.”

Kirk nodded. “All right,” he breathed, muscles relaxing. “I think I can do it now.” And once again he pushed a little further down, then up a fraction, then back down even further. The large organ probed deeper, he felt himself stretch to accommodate it. Firmly but gently Spock continued to rock his hips, pushing his erection deeper, deeper.

Kirk had partially lost his own erection from the pain.. Now Spock stroked the human penis dangling over his abdomen, touched it, squeezed it, groped the weight of human testicles. Kirk moaned as blood rushed back into erectile tissues. More enthusiastically he worked the flesh inside him, sliding up and down on it, up and down, until finally he sat on Spock's hips, fully ensheathing the throbbing cock, _oh dear god what a sensation!_ Spock's eyes were closed, face tight with ecstasy, skin slicked with sweat, chest heaving, as they paused for one last brief interlude. Kirk had to smile to himself – he had never before seen his best friend express great pleasure, much less ecstasy.

“All right,” he whispered once again over the Vulcan’s recumbent from, a twinkle in hazel eyes, “let’s go to town.”

And he began hard rhythmic rocking, and Spock bucked and rammed in counterpoint, and both released all restraints, working hard, working so hard, dripping sweat, faces taut, single-minded in their drive, desperate, rhythm growing faster, harder, until abruptly Spock loosed a harsh guttural cry, hips spasming upward, and he shot everything he had into Kirk’s bowels in several clonic jerks, punctuating each convulsion with a sharp gasp.

Until finally he was empty, and muscle tone deserted him, and he lay limply beneath the human, weathered face drained, sleepy.

Kirk still spraddled the Vulcan on hands and knees, still worked slightly on the loosening intruder up his ass. “Hey,” he protested playfully, “don’t go to sleep yet. It’s my turn. You got me into this condition, now you take care of it – and that’s an order from the senior-most officer on this vessel!”

A smile teased over the etched sleepy face. “Indeed, Captain, I shall take care of it – and you – very well.” And squirming himself from Kirk’s insides as Kirk shifted position and lifted off, he bent his knees to his chest and offered his own rump to his bed-mate.

In restrained excitement, Kirk knelt at Spock's ass, touched his hands to the hard-muscled gluteal mounds; and now it was Spock's legs doing the spraddling as Kirk pulled Spock's hips up onto his thighs. Fingers explored Spock's crotch, the soft scrotal-sac, the still-erect penis not quite as large as it had been a minute before, the warm dampness at the base of gluteal cleavage, then pushed deeper into intimate recesses, found the tight little opening which would soon give Kirk all the pleasure in the world. Idly he pressed a fingertip against it, felt it press back as Spock moaned once more. Feather-caresses all around the tender moist anus, while Spock gasped and squirmed in Kirk’s lap.

“You know,” Kirk mentioned casually, a quirky little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “I’ve never done this to a man before. I’ve done it to women… but never to a man.”

Spock's breathing gasped erratically, arrhythmically. “I’ve… never had this… done to me…” he admitted.

“You’re kidding – I thought you said you had experience with men during your times of pon-farr.”

Spock nodded, eyes squeezed tightly shut in response to Kirk’s maddening little feather-touches. “Yes… I have mated… with the priest… but a male in pon-farr never takes the submissive rôle… I have never been taken…”

Kirk’s smile of pleasure increased. “Then I guess that makes us both virgins of a sort today…”

Spock nodded wordlessly, face clenched in profound concentration. And Kirk set to work.

He did unto Spock as Spock had done unto him. Fingers slick with Spock's semen and his own fluid pushed into Spock's rectum. The keen sensation broke a sharp cry from the Vulcan’s lips and a jerk of taut hips; and delight at his partner’s response shivered all through Kirk, and the first tendrils of climax stung his genitals. With every ounce of resistance he owned, Kirk tried to delay just a moment longer, just a moment, just to get inside that hot wet place waiting to caress the very soul out of him.

Gripping the tensed buttocks, Kirk put his hard flesh right to the soft anus eager to be penetrated, and pushed in. Now it was Spock's turn to wince and clutch at the bed-clothes and eagerly impale himself on the human cock, taking it more quickly than Kirk had been able to accommodate Spock's

Kirk couldn’t hold out any longer. A couple of quick preliminary thrusts, and his full load squirted into the hot depths, penis continuing to plunge ever deeper even as he orgasmed. Excitement as he’d never known with a woman over-stimulated every nerve as Spock's pleasure joined his own through the bond. Kirk could hardly bear the ecstasy, surging until he thought he’d pass out, and finally he pulled free and collapsed bonelessly half-across Spock's sweat-drenched body.

They lay like that for a long time, half-awake, half-asleep, ignoring the discomfort of semen-sticky bed-clothes. The comfort of sated bodies and bonded minds more than made up for it.

“Spock,” Kirk murmured into an incredibly exotic upswept ear, “I realize you have to go on duty in less than two hours, but I expect you in my quarters tomorrow evening at eighteen-hundred sharp. No excuses for delays.”

Spock rested a warm vein-ridged hand on Kirk’s hip. “I don’t intend to take any.”

* * * * *

 _to be continued…_  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New – chapter 3: A gut-lurching fear twisted in his stomach. Hurriedly Kirk raced back up the stairs to the door. He never made it.  
> Another blinding flash of light, and Kirk felt himself slowly disintegrate into particulate matter.  
> And time-space ceased to exist.

Sensor-static flickered erratically over the main view-screen. Magnetic flux distorted the image of Planet N6395, the second world revolving around the small yellow star Minarius. It was a Class-M planet, but not much larger than Sol’s satellite Mercury. Beyond the ionosphere, Enterprise circled in a planet-synchronous orbit over the coördinates of the research station. Continually Uhura attempted contact with the base below, but the fluctuating magnetic field returned only white-noise to her comm-console.

Kirk looked back at his exec seated at the science-console. Intently the Vulcan was watching the several displays above him, fingers working the control panel before him, trying to filter out the distortion from the sensor readings. Momentarily Kirk allowed himself a little flush of heat between his legs. Spock had shifted his duty back to day-watch – as he would have anyway to take over command, since Kirk would be going down-planet – but that also meant that now he and Kirk could share nights. Their second time together had been spent in Kirk’s quarters. If anything, it was better than the first. When this mission was completed, Kirk intended to give that Vulcan first-officer of his the most sensual experience of his quiet circumspect life… _damn!_ he shouldn’t even be thinking about that until business was taken care of – it was too pleasantly distracting.

“Y’know, I’d say the temperature’s increased up here the last few days, Cap’n,” a casual Georgia accent drawled gently behind Kirk’s back. “Seems the bridge isn’t quite so cool as last week, don’t you think?”

Abruptly Kirk shot a look back at Leonard McCoy’s lined cheerful countenance. Somewhere back behind pale-blue eyes, humor glinted. Whether or not the doctor had found out about his and Spock's nightly friendship-mending, Kirk wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Sometimes that man showed as much telepathic ability as a psi-trained Vulcan.

Spock didn’t turn away from his display screens as he answered politely, “There has been no change in ship temperature, Doctor. Life-Support keeps it at a constant seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Well, maybe that’s what the thermometer reads, but…”

“Doctor,” Kirk interrupted in a too-kindly tone of voice, “isn’t there somewhere else you should be right now? Don’t you have major surgery to perform, or some other duty of vital importance waiting back in your office?”

McCoy beat a not-too-hasty retreat to the turbo-lift. “I s’pose I better leave,” he commented most-wisely, eyes still glinting good-naturedly, “before the air in here heats up any more.”

“Have a good rest-of-shift,” Kirk agreed. Then he turned back to his science-officer, all-business once again. “Spock, any sign of the research personnel down there yet?”

“Not yet. I detect no trace of humanoid life on the surface at all, even after filtering out most of the interference.”

“Hmm, that’s odd. What about any Klingon ships loitering in the vicinity?”

“None so far,” Spock replied, “and no sign of ground-troops either.   But these sensor readings are not reliable, Captain. Magnetic flux is extremely high, especially around the base-coördinates.”

“Well then, I guess it’s time for the landing-team to go to work.” Kirk thumbed the intercom button on his chair arm. “Lieutenant Gorman, lift-off will commence in five minutes.”

“Aye, Captain,” the security lieutenant acknowledged from the shuttle-bay.

Kirk rose from his command seat. “You have the conn, Captain Spock. We’ll contact you as soon as we’ve touched down, barring overwhelming magnetic interference.”

“Yes, sir.” Spock appropriated the center seat as Kirk entered the turbo-lift.

Kirk took a minimal team, per Morrow’s orders. Whatever was going on down there, Starfleet seemed adamant to preserve security. Kirk was accompanied by Lieutenant Gorman and two of Gorman’s men; if after the situation was analyzed Kirk decided they needed more personnel, he would call for them.

Because of the magnetic activity, obviously they couldn’t simply beam down to the planet, but even travelling by shuttle was difficult as the energy fields played havoc with the pod’s navigation and sensors. But Lieutenant Gorman was a highly-skilled pilot, and they landed with sight of the research station.

The white dome gleamed beneath a hot orange sky. Sparse desert-like vegetation grew unkempt about the building. The place looked deserted – strange, when it had supposedly been inhabited at least one-point-seven days ago, whatever might have happened since then. Even the sliding entrance door was partially blocked open by weeds – now that _was_ strange for a top-security establishment – and when Kirk glanced inside the structure, all he saw was a computer terminal on a dusty table and a couple of dusty chairs. No people, no sign whatsoever of habitation.

In confusion he questioned Gorman, “Are you sure this is the right place?”

The young lieutenant nodded. “Yes sir. These are the coördinates you ordered. I corrected navigation for the magnetic flux as we came in.”

“Well, something sure in hell is wrong. Unless this is just a decoy for the real outpost – though it would’ve been nice if Morrow had said something,” Kirk muttered, half to himself. He activated his wrist-communicator. “Landing party to Enterprise.”

But only static answered him. “Damn!” he whispered, resetting the comm unit to boost the gain. “Enterprise, do you copy?”

Nothing, _Damn_. Well, he’d try again later when the security man’s tricorder registered a dip in magnetic levels. For now, they might as well enter the structure. Perhaps the computer inside held some clue to the scientists’ whereabouts.

Gorman led the way down the interior steel staircase, Kirk second, the two guards following. The air inside smelled dry, dusty. Kirk went over to the terminal, flicked the switch on the console, but the screen remained blank, dead. Obviously a long exposure to dust had crammed up the works inside. This wasn’t right at all.

Gorman was studying his tricorder intently.

“Lieutenant,” Kirk said, “do you get any life-readings in the vicinity, any human or humanoid?”

The lieutenant shook his head. “No sir, I don’t.”

“Markson, what about a shift in the flux?”

“No, sir.. oh wait a minute, there’s something weird here – a sudden surge at the lower end of the scale. I haven’t seen that before…” Abruptly a loud humming overrode him, increasing quickly to head-splitting intensity.

Impulsively they clamped hands over their ears. In desperation Kirk looked about for a source of the noise, but the sound seemed to be emanating from the very air around them. Sound vibrations battered them, seared their ears painfully. Then suddenly light exploded all about them, and instinctively Kirk squeezed his eyes shut with a cry of pain.

In a moment the light faded; and when Kirk’s glare-blindness subsided, he looked about himself.

He was alone in the dome-structure. The security men had vanished.

A gut-lurching fear twisted in his stomach. Something was horribly wrong about this whole assignment. What the hell had Morrow gotten them into?

Hurriedly he raced back up the stairs to the door. He never made it.

Another blinding flash of light, and Kirk felt himself slowly disintegrate into particulate matter.

And time-space ceased to exist.

* * * * *

_to be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New – chapter 4: Chains hanging from the darkness up above and attached to manacles spread-eagled Kirk’s arms. His feet dangled unshackled a few inches off the glossy black floor. A beam of energy engulfed his body. Tingly sensation crawled all over him from his scalp to the soles of his feet. Then it changed, feeling like tendrils climbing about him, probing him…  
> And it was all he could do to keep from screaming…

Particulate matter had definitely re-solidified. The very real ache in his very real flesh assured him of that as it prodded Kirk into unwelcome consciousness. He didn’t want to open his eyes just yet. Pain throbbed between his eyes, ached in his shoulders and arms and back. He was dangling by his wrists, feet off the floor. His clothes were gone. Cool air wisped over his bare skin. And the blinding light still hurt his eyes.

Eyelids fluttered open. No, it wasn’t the same blinding light. More like a spotlight encompassing him and the area around him in a circular beam of radiance. Outside the beam hovered absolute blackness.

Chains hanging from the darkness up above and attached to manacles spread-eagled his arms. His feet dangled unshackled a few inches off the glossy black floor. Dear god, what had happened to him, and where were his men?

More to the point – where was he?

On the outskirts of the spotlight, he could see machinery, equipment of some kind. Perhaps this was the real weapons-lab. If the project was as hush-hush as Morrow had acted, perhaps the topside structure was just a decoy. Had the Klingons discovered it despite all security precautions and taken the scientists captive? Were Kirk and his men now prisoners of the Klingon Empire?

His gaze drifted forward again, and stopped short.

Two men stood before him. He hadn't heard them approach. No, they weren’t men – or Klingon, for that matter – but rather male humanoids standing less than four feet in front of him. Their faces looked almost human, wrinkled and aged by human standards, their head bulbous and bald with vertical bony ridges that stretched the pale yellowish skin over their temples. Shapeless scintillating silver robes covered their bodies.

He wondered who they were, wondered if he could communicate with them, wondered whether or not they intended to kill him.

Then one of them spoke, and the words were in perfect Standard, and that wasn’t the only thing that surprised him.

“Hello, Captain Kirk, “ the slightly shorter one greeted mildly.

“How do you know who I am?” Kirk blurted, command-presence asserting itself despite his trussed-up nakedness. “Who are you? And where are my men? What have you done with them?”

“Captain, we shall answer all your questions, and you shall answer ours.” The voice was mellow, much too calm. “We are Vians, from a world circling a star called Ybon. I am Lal, and this is Thann. We know who you are because we can read your mind – we have certain telepathic abilities. Right now you and your men are being held in this underground laboratory approximately on-hundred-twenty-one meters beneath the planet’s surface. And as for the Federation science team which we know you came here looking for, we took them as well to conduct our own research upon. We are scientists too. We wish to learn more about humans and about your Federation. We intend to experiment on all of you.”

Kirk felt sickness encroaching. He wasn’t sure he could control his stomach. “What kind of experiments?”

“You shall see as we progress.”

“Don’t harm my men. I’m responsible for them. Whatever you intend to do, do to me. Spare my men.” Sweat oozed out of every pore, heart galloped in his chest. He wondered if the Enterprise had any idea what was happening. Surely Spock would be aware of the lack of communication since shuttle-launch or the lack of surface life-readings on the scanners, if the magnetism didn’t completely disrupt all reception.

The Vian answered him simply. “We will do what is necessary for our experiments.”

Kirk felt pleading climbing over his command tone. “Damn you, we don’t even know you. The Federation has no quarrel with your planet. You have no right to do this to us.”

But now the Vians didn’t reply. The second one raised a small hand-held device and pointed it at Kirk.

“Wait!” Kirk demanded, then stiffened in his manacles and gasped sharply as a beam of energy engulfed his body. Tingly energy crawled all over him from his scalp to the soles of his feet. A horrible itchy sensation. He squirmed against the restraints, and the tight metal cuffs cut his wrists. Obviously his captors cared little for his safety or comfort. “Goddamn you!” he swore through clenched teeth, “what do you want?” Again his body jerked under the electric assault.

And then the Vian called Thann changed a control on the device, and the sensation changed slightly. Now it felt like tendrils climbing about him, probing for his bodily openings and sliding into them. The Vians never touched him, but the energy probes violated him, and it was all he could manage to keep from screaming. Something crawled into his mouth, his nostrils, down his esophagus. He gagged sickly, trying to rid his body of the non-corporeal probes. Then the seeking tendrils inserted into his rectum, pushed up into his colon. Convulsively Kirk squirmed, shame drenching his mind. The Vians watched him with detached disinterest as they intimately violated his body.

He glared at them, rage surging in his eyes, even as he writhed in his chains, multiply-impaled. And then he felt one tendril of electricity search up the channel of his cock, and the sensation was too much to bear, and he screamed in shock and pain.

The horror continued for a few moments longer, while he jerked helplessly and coughed and choked and cried out; then the one with the scanner turned it off, and abruptly all electric sensation ceased. Kirk dangled limply, unable to stop shaking. A dull ache, as in the aftermath of electric shock, throbbed inside him, tingled painfully in his body portals. His throat felt like it had been screamed raw, his lower bowel felt like it had been ripped, and _oh god_ the burning pain in his cock…

He felt utterly violated. Without even laying a finger on him, the Vians had raped him. In all his fifty-eight years, he had never been humiliated so badly, hurt so deeply.

The two beings were now discussing the scanner reading between themselves, sounding ever so clinical and detached. “The subject human male is in good health. Excellent specimen for interrogation and experimentation.” They didn’t seem to mind his over-hearing; in fact they seemed to want him to hear their plans. “He is expressing normal bodily fear-reactions at the present.”

– fear wasn’t all he’d be expressing if he could get his hands free –

Then one of the Vians took note of something in the findings. “Here is an oddity: there is Vulcan seminal fluid in the Earthman’s intestinal tract.”

– _oh dearjesusgod that was really the capper_ , it wasn’t enough just to violate his body, now they were going to shove their filthy hands into his and Spock's intimacy. _Goddamn them, and goddamn Morrow for getting him and his men into this_.

The Vian who had originally spoken to him, Lal, now approached him again. “It is not expected to discover Vulcan sexual fluid within the body of a human male,” he announced with all the inflection of a scientist discussing abnormal test results. “Please explain.”

Kirk’s weary eyes glared quietly, and he spat out his disgust, “Go to fucking hell – if you Vians even have a hell.”

The two aliens did not seem taken aback by his obscenity, but conferred together again. “This may change the parameters of the test,” they agreed. “We must research this further.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Kirk demanded from his scream-burned throat, but the Vians didn’t answer him now. The one with the instrument pointed it at him again, and despite the chains, he shrank back in sweaty fear… _oh dear god it’s going to happen all over again… god help me_ …

But then, instead of searching him again, the electric jolt caused him to lose consciousness once more, and everything went black for him.  
* * * * *

Spock knew that the shuttle had already landed on the planet below more than a half-hour before. He also knew that Commander Uhura would notify him as soon as contact was established with the landing party. Therefore there was no need for him to continue occupying part of his mind wondering when the captain would call. Magnetic flux played havoc with transmission. It also interrupted sensor readings; therefore, there was no logical reason to assume the worst when Chekov, manning Spock's vacated science-station, had announced that the landing party’s life-form readings had suddenly vacillated and then disappeared off the screen twenty-two-point-seven minutes ago.

And he knew that Leonard McCoy, hovering behind the command chair as the doctor frequently did when Kirk occupied the center seat, was apprehensive, as were the other humans on the bridge. And finally he had to admit to himself that he felt a slight dis-ease as well. Something was not right about this mission, and they all sensed it, though he couldn’t as yet logically explain what precisely was amiss.

However, at least he knew that Kirk lived – he could feel the slender thread of the mating bond still quiver and dance with life. Magnetic flux couldn’t affect that.

The energy of the newly-deepened bond toyed at the ends of his nerves, promised sexual delights. He had to shield to prevent its interference upon his command presence. That, he didn’t dare gamble with now.

If the landing party didn’t communicate in another six-point-three minutes, Spock would order a recon patrol launched, and also have Uhura contact Starbase Twelve. Top-secret or not, he would demand more information about this mission.

But then Uhura’s contralto voice spoke up. “Captain Spock, I have Captain Kirk on beta-channel.”

“Put him through, Commander,” Spock requested.

Kirk’s voice cut through the white noise – and Spock could not deny the relief he felt. “Spock… Made contact with… research party…. Need… assistance…. Two personnel… injured…”

“Was there a Klingon attack?” Spock asked.

“Negative… accident… down here.” Static crackled over the captain’s words. “…Can’t jeopardize… security… you and McCoy… shuttle down here alone… salvage computer records… while McCoy tends wounded… I want to finish… get out of here… before magnetic storm… worse… Rendezvous at shuttle coördinates… Kirk out.”

“Acknowledged, Captain. We shall be there shortly. Spock out.”

“Finally,” McCoy muttered to no one in particular. “I can’t stand just waiting around. Nervous energy’s making me damned claustrophobic.” He headed for the turbo-lift. “I’ll get me medi-kit, and meet you in the shuttle-bay, Spock.”

“Very well, Doctor,” Spock responded, ignoring the rest of the doctor‘s emotional editorial. He fingered the command-chair intercom. “Captain Scott, please report to the bridge to assume command. Doctor McCoy and I are shuttling down to the planet’s surface.”

“Aye, Captain,” the chief engineer acknowledged.

* * * * *

_to be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock lay in a crumpled heap beside the platform, long limbs bent awkwardly beneath him, clothing rumpled. McCoy and Kirk rushed to his side to lift his limp body up onto the table. But he was neither limp nor unconscious. As they touched him, he stiffened abruptly and pulled away from their hands. Stiffly he rose to his feet unassisted, tugging his uniform jacket down in some attempt to regain decorum. He did not make eye contact with the other two men; and Kirk’s heart squeezed in pain as he saw the distress beneath the rigidly-held Vulcan mask, distress of shattered dignity, humiliated pride.

The ache between his eyes throbbed worse. God, he wished Bones was here to shoot him up with some pain-killer. He couldn’t continue to function with a knife-blade stabbing into his brain with every pulse of his heart.

Now he lay face-up on a padded table-sized platform of sorts, once again beneath that omni-present spotlight. But at least he was dressed again – at least the Vians had allowed him that, once they had completed their obscenely presumptive physical examination.

With a tired groan he raised a hand to his aching face.

“Jim!” Someone rustled beside him. “Jim, wake up.”

Kirk forced his eyes open a squint. “Bones? … oh god, my head…”

The doctor sat on the platform beside him. “That’s all right, don’t move. I’ve got something for you right here. Just hang in there half-a-minute longer.” He fixed a hypo-spray, injected something into Kirk’s right shoulder through the uniform jacket. “There, that’ll make you feel better in just a little bit.”

And indeed, after awhile, most of the pain lifted, dissipated; and when Kirk next opened his eyes, he didn’t have to squint. Cautiously he turned his head to see his doctor-friend hovering over him, med-scanner in hand. “Bones?” he murmured, “where are we?”

McCoy supported him as he sat up stiffly. “Damned if I know,” the older man admitted. “Spock and I shuttled down here at your order. We followed your tracks into the station, and then suddenly there was this loud humming noise, then a flash of light, then something like a transporter beam took us, and I ended up here… wherever ‘here’ is.”

Kirk rubbed his forehead, as though to rub away the last vestiges of pain. “You came down with Spock?”

“Yes, per your orders.”

“My last orders were for Spock to take the conn, and that I would call if we needed extra personnel to come down. Neither of you were supposed to leave the ship.”

“Well, we heard your voice over the ship’s comm.”

“I don’t know what you heard, but it wasn’t me. Right after we landed, I tried to make contact, but couldn’t get through the static. I never spoke to you or Spock.”

“Oh jesus.” McCoy looked stricken.

“Where’s Spock now?”

“I don’t know. When I came out of that weird transporter effect, I was here alone, until I saw you.”

Now Kirk looked sick. “Oh god, they’ve got him.”

“Who’s got him? What’s going on?” McCoy was going over him with the med-scanner again, and his voice took on an emotion-roughened edge. “And who the hell handled you like this?”

Kirk’s headache returned, threatened to override the pain-killer, while tight little shivers shuddered along his nerves. McCoy injected him again, all-physician now, his one outburst of anxiousness now securely sublimated; and gradually Kirk felt his own tremors subside, and he could – almost – sublimate them too.

“Looks like you took a mild electric jolt,” the doctor commented, voice falsely gentle and reassuring.

Kirk nodded absently, seeing again cruel images behind his eyes. “The Vians examined me… with some kind of scanner… it felt like electricity crawling all over me…” Another shudder of muscles, while his face tightened with painful memories of violation. “… And they did something to me… they put something into me… oh god I can still feel it crawling inside me… god it was horrible…”

McCoy’s fingers touched his arm. “It’s all right, Jim,” he soothed. “I’m aware of how you were touched. But you’re all right now. There’s no sign of internal injury.” Deliberately he shifted the conversation to a less intimate topic. “Who are the Vians? What’s going on down here? Did you find the research team?”

Again Kirk rubbed his forehead. “The Vians are two humanoids who took us prisoner. They said they’re going to conduct experiments on us. They said they’re scientists, and they want to learn more about humans.”

“By experimenting on us?” Disgust colored McCoy’s voice. “Like we’re a bunch of goddamn microbes?”

Kirk shook his head slowly, feeling the slight effect of the muscle-relaxant creep up on him.

“You think they attacked the research team as well?” McCoy’s gaze shifted around the black expanse of room. “Do you suppose we’re being observed right now? I wonder if someone is taking notes.”

“I’m sure they are. I don’t know where the research team is. We never saw any trace of them. We were captured by that transporter effect the same as you.”

“Where’s the security team? Were they examined like you?”

“I don’t know where they are either. I was alone when the Vians… examined me.” Now Kirk looked around himself, pushed up from the bench. “But I sure in hell am not going to sit around anymore. What’s out there?” he asked, eyes searching the blackness beyond the spot-lighted platform. He stepped over to the edge of the darkness. His bootsteps echoed on the hard black floor as though the room were a vast empty cavern.

McCoy rose to stand beside him. “Nothing, as far as I could tell. I scanned around with the tricorder, but got no readings. I walked out a ways until I came up to a force-field of some kind – whatever it is, it doesn’t register.”

“That’s impossible. It’s got to have some kind of reading.”

“Here, look for yourself.” McCoy held out his tricorder as the captain stepped out into the blackness.

But before they had walked twenty feet, a burst of light flashed behind them, and both men wheeled in their tracks.

Spock lay in a crumpled heap beside the platform, long limbs bent awkwardly beneath him, clothing rumpled. McCoy and Kirk rushed to his side to lift his limp body up onto the table. But he was neither limp nor unconscious. As they touched him, he stiffened abruptly and pulled away from their hands. Compliantly they released him, and only their concerned gazes offered their support and solicitude.

Stiffly he rose to his feet unassisted, tugging his uniform jacket down in some attempt to regain decorum. He did not make eye contact with the other two men; and Kirk’s heart squeezed in pain as he saw the distress beneath the rigidly-held Vulcan mask, distress of shattered dignity, humiliated pride. The maturely-graven angular face seemed more deeply etched than usual.

McCoy glanced at Kirk, solemn, angry, half-questioning. Kirk nodded slightly, fighting back the sting of moisture in his eyes. What had happened to his own body had been mortifying, degrading – but for the same actions to be thrust upon the mature dignity of the Vulcan was obscenely inexcusable. And beyond the churning of outrage, Kirk could feel empathetic agony from their newly-secured bond, and it threatened to spill over into blind fury of one whose mate had been violated.

But then he felt a controlling suppression wash over the fury, and he knew that Spock was transmitting a caution through the bond, insisting that Kirk remain in emotional control of himself.

Kirk didn’t know how to soothe his wounded mate. “I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say, empty words of comfort, “But it’s all right now, Spock.”

“No, Captain,” Spock contradicted, voice controlled, formal, “it is not all right, not at all.” His gaze remained blank, straight ahead. “We are presently involved in an extremely serious situation.”

Kirk nodded acquiescence. “I know. You’re right.”

“However, wounded dignity is hardly a constructive emotion, and I have not been injured physically.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” McCoy had laid his medi-kit on the table and was now running his scanner with professional efficiency over the taciturn Vulcan. The doctor scowled at the results. “Damn those bastards were thorough. There’s not an inch of you inside or out that they didn’t examine.”

“I’m well aware of that, Doctor,” Spock retorted stiffly.

Kirk laid a hand over McCoy’s hand holding the small instrument. “Bones, please,” he urged. “I know you’re trying to do your job, but you’re only making this worse for both of us.”

“Well, at least you’re both unhurt – at least physically.”

Kirk turned away from his companions. “I want to scout around a little. If they’re going to study us, I think we should study them too.” Again he stepped out into the black nothingness, away from the spotlighted table.

And again a flash of light interrupted.

Across the platform, about ten feet away, the Vians stood watching them.

Kirk lurched toward them, but caught himself abruptly when one raised that horrible little torture device and pointed it at him.

“Now what the hell do you want from us?” he demanded with as much command presence as he could muster.

“We need access to your ship’s computer, Captain,” Lal answered calmly. “We must learn of your Federation’s military capabilities, to judge if you present a threat to our world. Surely as a soldier, you can appreciate the reasonableness of such an inquiry.”

Kirk insisted adamantly, “We present no threat to your planet if your planet intends no harm to any Federation territory. If it’s contact with the Federation you wish, release me and my men, and I’ll see that a diplomatic representative meets with you. But we can’t release military data to you, since most of it is classified. Surely you, as reasonably intelligent beings, can appreciate the necessity of that.”

“Captain, we have no interest in diplomatic negotiations. We simply wish to study you and your kind. We have already taken information from your security team.”

“You mean you tortured them, like you probably tortured the research team as well.”

“We interrogated them. We scanned their minds.”

“Then why don’t you just scan our minds, instead of asking for our coöperation? You seem to need our permission – why? You obviously have the ability to overpower us.”

Thann shook his head. “We do not wish to harm you any more than is necessary. We can telepathically access surface information, but your command training has obviously taught you to shield confidential material. We will eventually work through your shielding, but at great cost to you. Even your first-officer’s Vulcan training cannot resist us indefinitely.”

At the suggestion of threat to Spock, Kirk roused. “You will not touch my men. Release us now, let us go back to our ship. If you don’t, sooner or later the ship will take action, and I doubt that the two of you are powerful enough to fend off an attacking starship. Give me my men back and let us go.”

The Vians showed no reaction to Kirk’s threat. “Your requests will be considered once our inquiries have been satisfied. After you coöperate with us, you and your men will be released – all except for Lieutenant Gorman, who died a short time ago.”

“What?!” Doctor McCoy snapped in shocked horror at the casually delivered news, and thrust forward, only to be held off by Lal’s instrument. “What the hell did you do to him?”

Then Kirk demanded, “I don’t believe you. I think you’re just trying to use psychology against us to get us to talk. If the lieutenant is really dead, show us his body. I want to see him.”

“Very well, Captain. You will see that we speak the truth.” Thann touched a control on his device.

Another glare of light – and with it, the young man’s body appeared in solid flesh on the table. Naked, eyes staring up sightlessly.

And Kirk felt his insides lurch sickly at the most horrifying grotesquery of all: the chest cavity had been cut open with surgical precision, and between the raw flesh of exposed lungs where the heart should have been, was only a large gaping hole.

_to be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lal spoke. “Coöperate with us, Captain. Since you claim responsibility for your men, you will decide who shall be interrogated next. The doctor will no doubt suffer physical harm. The Vulcan will probably receive serious mental damage due to the level of force necessary to breach his control. Which do you choose?”

Kirk fought down nausea as best he could, forced his gaze up from the mutilated corpse to meet the Vians’ eyes again. It took every ounce of his mental control to keep his attention on their captors and away from the violated remains of what had once been his young security lieutenant. Behind him he could hear McCoy’s harsh breathing, as even the doctor with years of operating-room scenarios in his experience, responded tensely to the gruesome sight.

“You fucking bastards!” McCoy swore harshly. “You killed him. Oh, you goddamn bastards…!”

Spock's quiet voice interrupted, “Doctor…”

“Goddammit, Spock!” McCoy protested, but then shut up.

Kirk said nothing as his gaze remained on the Vians.

Lal spoke to him. “Coöperate with us, Captain. Give us the access code to your ship’s computer.”

“No.”

“Very well, Captain. Then since you claim responsibility for your men, you will decide who shall be interrogated next. The doctor will no doubt suffer physical harm. The Vulcan will probably receive serious mental damage due to the level of force necessary to breach his control. Which do you choose?”

“Neither.” Tightly suppressed rage simmered beneath ice-cold voice. “Goddamn you, I won’t turn either of my men over to torture, and I’m sure in hell not going to turn over my ship.”

“We thought you might wish to spare the Vulcan, since you and he are sexual partners.”

Control failed. “You bastards! If you ever mention that again, I’ll rip your fucking heads off!”

“Jim.” As Spock had interrupted McCoy, so now the doctor stopped Kirk, gently, firmly.

Kirk snapped a look back at him, abruptly silenced, then returned to the Vians with regained composure. “I will not be forced into making a decision where there is none to be made. Do whatever you’re going to do. Obviously we can’t stop you – yet.”

Completely untouched by the tension around them, the Vians pointed their instruments at McCoy. “Then we shall take the doctor for now.”

“No!” Kirk surged forward; Thann jabbed the device toward him, paralyzing him in his tracks.

Then light flashed about them again, and when it faded, the Vians were gone, along with McCoy and Lieutenant Gorman’s body.

Paralysis released, and Kirk collapsed into a sitting position on the floor beside the platform. Distress seethed in his mind: distress and rage and guilt… and heartsickness. Whatever happened now to McCoy would be his fault, although he knew full well that there could have been no other outcome for the confrontation which had just occurred. Each of them was expendable before the Federation could be jeopardized, and each of them knew it.

But that didn’t ease Kirk’s heartsickness, or guilt.

Spock sat beside him, face straight ahead. For awhile he said nothing, then the deep raspy voice reminded gently, “You were correct when you told the Vians that we cannot stop them yet. Do not allow unwarranted guilt to cloud your rational thinking now.”

Kirk’s muscles trembled tensely, moisture burned the corners of his eyes. “Well, we better think of some way to stop them. We can’t just sit here placidly and let those bastards take us one by one.” Anger and distress and hatred roiled in his veins.

A warm hand took one of his clenched fists; and then Kirk felt an even warmer touch in his mind, an opening of their mate-bond.

… _Jim_ … The vibrancy of his partner entered him… _Do not respond outwardly to this communication_ … _I believe that even now we are being monitored_ …

… _yes, Spock_ … Kirk responded to this still-new sensation of deep bonding. He could almost tangibly sense the Vulcan’s powerful ever-present support helping all of them to endure this horror.

Giving no indication of the internal conversation to whatever invisible sensors might be scanning them now, Kirk leaned back tiredly against the platform and closed his eyes. Aimlessly his thumb stroked the knuckled of the hand clasping his – if the scanners picked up that gesture of affection, hell with them: the Vians had already exposed their love-affair and defiled it anyway.

… _listen to me, Jim_ … Spock's mind-voice insisted calmly but intensely… _unless the Vians already discovered it, there is a hand-phaser hidden in the doctor’s medi-kit_ … _they took my phaser and communicator when they examined me_ …

– another shudder, quickly suppressed, skittered over Kirk’s surface nerves, as Spock's own painful memories of violation slipped through the meld –

… _they got mine too_ … Kirk agreed.

… _then take the doctor’s when you can without being observed_ … _they will no doubt come for me soon_ … _do what you can to save yourself_ …

… _Spock, you’ve accused Bones in the past of having a penchant for irrelevancies – don’t you start now_ … _of course I’m not going to leave you all here_ … _I’ll stop those bastards any way I can_ …

… _I am not being irrelevant, Jim_ … _you may have a better chance of stopping them if you are able to effect an escape from wherever it is that we are being held now_ …

… _escape to where, Spock_?...

And to that there was no answer. A lull settled. Casually Kirk reached for the medi-kit sitting on the table. He didn’t open it, but just held it in his lap with his free hand. He could feel the small shape of the phaser inside. His fingers continued to stroke Spock's hand… _I wonder what really happened to the research team_ … _I wonder how soon the Vians captured them after they sent their SOS to Starbase Twelve_ …

… _if it was indeed a true SOS_ …

… _you think it wasn’t?_... _maybe it was just a trap set by the Vians themselves to capture the ship?_...

… _that is a possibility – Doctor McCoy and I were lured down here by a false communicatio_ n… _have you sensed the feeling that all is not as it seems here?_...

… _yes, I have_ … _I suspect that the Vians are not who they say they are, or at least they’re after something other than what they say they’re after_ … _but I don’t know what_ …

… _nor do I_ … _I attempted to enter their minds while they examined me, but I could not breach their mental shields_ …

… _well, whoever they are, they’re obviously extremely dangerous_ … _Spock, I’m so damned sorry about what they did to you_ … _I’d’ve been willing to do anything to prevent it if I’d known_ …

… _I was not injured, through the event was somewhat discomfiting_ …

– Kirk’s unspoken rise in feelings responded to the intensity beneath the abbreviated Vulcan assurance – it w all he could manage to keep his eyes calmly closed and not divulge their silent communication by looking at his friend beside him, while his self-blame and apologies flooded the bond-link… _forgive me, Spock_ … _it’s my fault_ … _they found out about us when they examined me_ … _I never meant for anyone to know_ … _maybe I never should have suggested that we_ … _have intimate relations_ … _the Vians wouldn’t have taken you prisoner if it hadn’t been for that_ …

… _number one, Jim, we have no idea what the Vians’ motivation is for anything they do; number two, how could their discovery of our union be your fault if they found out about us through examining you? – you could not have prevented their examination; and number three, it was not upon your suggestion alone that we conjoined, but rather by mutual agreement_ … _and I do not regret that agreement even for an instant_ …

… _neither do I, Spock_ … _neither do I_ … Kirk’s thumb against rubbed Spock's knuckles lightly. … _I wonder how Bones is holding up_ … _god, I hope he’s all right_ …

Tension rose in the link, worry, and sadness over Gorman’s brutal death, then Spock's concern soothed gently … _I am with you, t’hy’la_ … _whatever happens, I will shield you as long as I am able_ …

A blinding flash once again – like lightning – an explosion of pain inside Kirk’s head as the mental link ripped apart abruptly; a sudden rush of breath as he was thrown to the floor by some violent force; then the spotlight went out, and instant blackness obliterated everything.

Numbing shock stunned him – he felt like he’d been caught in the nimbus of a phaser blast – he came to on the floor, blinked into the utter blackness, momentarily wondering if he’d gone blind. His skin tingled all over. “… Spock…” he gasped, then again, more strongly, “Spock, are you all right?”

Nothing. And there was a raw wound in his mind where the link had been torn. “Spock!” he called anxiously, groping about for his friend. “Spock, where are you?”

But only silence pressed down. Claustrophobia threatened his sanity. He staggered to his feet, looked up blankly into the nothingness around him. “What have you done with Spock?” he yelled at whoever was listening. “Goddamn you, where did you take him?”

A moan from the platform nearby.

“Spock!” he cried, feeling his way back to the table, until he stubbed his toe against it. He caught himself to keep from falling, then reached out anxious hands, touched warm flesh lying on the platform. “Spock!... oh god…”

Another moan, a tiny whimper of pain, a gasp as Kirk touched something that hurt.

“Spock…” No, it wasn’t Spock. Kirk suddenly recognized the scent, the feel. “Bones! oh god, Bones, what have they done to you?”

_to be continued…_

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk sat on the edge of the table, stroked McCoy’s hair comfortingly. In the absolute blackness, touch seemed necessary. It seemed to relieve some of the anxious suggestions of claustrophobia encroaching about the edges of this mind. He wished to god could undo the torture which their captors had perpetrated upon the doctor. He wished he could stop them from continuing the obscenities on Spock. In the back of his consciousness he could feel stings of pain which managed to leak past Spock's shields from whatever the Vians were doing to him right now…

Urgent hands took the doctor’s face, felt slickness – blood? sweat? – oh god where was the light now when he needed it?

Another helpless whimper. “… don’t… hurt me again… please…”

“Bones, it’s me – Jim. I won’t hurt you… Bones, can you hear me?”

“Jim?...” So weak.

“Yes, Bones.”

“… help me… please, Jim…” Shallow breaths.

Kirk held his friend’s face, spoke close to it in the pitch blackness. “I can’t, Bones… I can’t see to help you…” Gently he stroked the doctor’s damp hair, god he hoped it was just sweat and no blood… he didn’t smell blood, so at least that was encouraging. “Where are you hurt, Bones?” he urged. “Tell me where it hurts.”

Shocky respiration. “… all over… it hurts all over… oh god…”

“I know, Bones.” Kirk tried to calm with his touch, wished he had the power to heal by his touch, _goddamn those fucking bastards who had done this_ …!

“… my arm…” voice so shaky, “… shattered the bone… hurts…”

Kirk’s hands slipped down McCoy’s neck, shoulders, upper arms. McCoy released a tiny cry, tried weakly to pull his right side away. Instantly Kirk stopped his probing. “I’m sorry, Bones, I’m sorry, I won’t touch it anymore… god I’m sorry…”

“… where’s my kit… lost my kit…” the doctor’s voice wavered, but held a little more in control now despite the pain… gasps through clenched teeth.

Kirk dropped to his knees, where he’d been on the floor a few minutes prior, groped about. “I had it, Bones, I dropped it… here it is.” He brought it back to the table, and in the darkness, with minimal movement, slipped the hidden phaser into his jacket opening, all the while praying that the scanners couldn’t see him do it. Surreptitiously he checked the power-setting by feel.

McCoy’s left hand touched Kirk’s arm. “Open the kit up, give it to me…” Kirk did as he was bade. McCoy pressed the hypo barrel into Kirk’s palm, then selected a vial by feel and passed that to him too. “Put this into the hypo,” he gasped the instruction, “… then inject my right shoulder… hurry… please…”

In the blackness Kirk obeyed; as carefully as possible, took the doctor’s injured arm and injected the drug into the shoulder muscle. McCoy stiffened and cried out once more, then sagged limply.

“Bones,” Kirk whispered, “is that better? How do you feel?”

A momentary lull, then McCoy nodded lightly. “… yeah… anaesthetic… thanks, Jim…” Gradually his breathing evened out.

Kirk sat on the edge of the table, stroked McCoy’s hair comfortingly. In the absolute blackness, touch seemed necessary. It seemed to relieve some of the anxious suggestions of claustrophobia encroaching about the edges of this mind. He wished to god could undo the torture which their captors had perpetrated upon the doctor. He wished he could stop them from continuing the obscenities on Spock. In the back of his consciousness he could feel stings of pain which managed to leak past Spock's shields from whatever the Vians were doing to him right now… _goddamn them! goddamn them_...

“Bones…” he murmured, not sure if the doctor was still awake or if the anaesthetic had been a knock-out dose.

“… yeah…” McCoy managed, voice weak, drowsy, then wondered aloud, “.. where’s Spock?”

“They took him again. How are you holding up now?”

“… not very well… they examined me like they did to you and Spock… then they questioned me… asked about you… confidential medical information…” Weak voice trembled under threat of tears. “… I tried not to tell them… dear god I tried not to…”

“It’s all right, Bones. Just rest now ‘til we can get you back to the ship.”

“… I’m sorry, Jim…”

“It’s okay – just rest, don’t try to talk anymore.”

The doctor fell silent, breath still hitching a little from the residual pain.

And Kirk felt sympathetic pain… _damn, he’d make them pay!_ So far, he and his men had all been pawns for a the Vians, subjected to whatever negligent tortures and humiliations the Vians chose to inflect upon them. But that would change now – the comforting bulk of the hidden phaser pressed against his belly.

Abruptly a needle of pain lanced through his brain – _oh god Spock!_ what were they doing to him? – and he dropped helplessly to his knees. Spock's mind was being battered, as when the Klingon mind-sifter had tortured him so many years ago; the exquisite agony lanced through Kirk’s mind – and yet Kirk could sense that Spock was resolutely shielding him from the brunt of the onslaught. But even so, Kirk could hear, could feel the probing interrogation, probing into Spock's pain-weakened consciousness –

… _tell us your captain’s weaknesses, tell us the doctor’s_ … _would you like to see them interrogated like this?_...

… _no_ … _no_ …

… _then tell us how to control your ship_ … _and do not lie to us or they will be tortured in front of you_ …

… _n_ o… _I cannot!..._

… _tell us, Vulcan_ … _tell us about your Federation’s strength in this quadrant, tell us about its defenses_ … _Captain Kirk is your sexual mate, surely you wish to keep him from harm_ …

… _I_ … _will not answer_ …

… _you_ will _answer us, Vulcan…_ _turn over your ship to us, or forfeit you captain and see what we will do to him_ …

And forced images stirred in the psychological barrage, terrible images which bled through Spock's weakening shields into Kirk’s mind: images of Kirk beaten physical and mentally, body violated, sexually abused, while Spock was forced to watch.

… _speak, Vulcan_ … _what is the access code for your ship?_...

Spock’s mind raged in anguish, helplessness… _no, I will not! I cannot!_ … _Jim, forgive me_ … _please forgive me_ …

“Damn you bastards!” Kirk yelled aloud into the blackness where he was. “Let him go! Do what you want with me, but let him go!”

Light flared on in a blinding explosion of brilliance, so glaring that Kirk’s hands flew to his face, pressed against his tight closed eyelids.

“Captain,” Lal spoke from close by now, “are you will to talk now?”

Kirk blinked in the brightness but still could not look up, voice tight as he demanded, “Don’t torture me in front of Spock. Do whatever you’re going to do to me, but don’t force him to watch.”

“If you wish us to consider your requests, you must coöperate with us. Tell us your ship’s access code.”

Kirk’s head shook negation. “No… damn you, no!”

“Then both your friends shall watch.”

“Damn you!...”

Another light flashed overhead. Kirk looked up – now for the first time he saw Doctor McCoy naked on the table beside him, bruised and bloodied, pain-ravaged countenance, horribly battered right arm; and Kirk’s stomach lurched at the shock. And then in the spotlight beam a short distance away, he saw Spock hunched on the floor, lined mature face looking so old suddenly, wearied, barely holding his own against the mental torture, and he was bloody too, naked and bruised, and Kirk felt so sick.

And Thann and Lal watched the three of them, so casually pitiless.

“Give us your ship, Captain Kir – ”

“Damn you to fucking hell!” Kirk yelled – drew the phaser from his jacket, and fired.

Abruptly Lal humped in the shimmery yellow blast and tumbled to the floor like he’d been kicked solidly in the belly, blank shock registering on his stunned face. Kirk lunged at the crumpled form, before Thann could react, and snatched the Vian’s instrument/weapon off the floor, then stood behind the bald head and upped the setting on the phaser.

“Now _you_ can talk, you fucking bastard!” he snapped, shifting his aim between the two. “Give me back the rest of my crew and the scientists, and tell me how to get out of this torture-chamber. And you better tell the goddamn truth, because if I get the slightest gut-feeling that you’re lying, I’ll blow you to hell!”

But stubbornly Lal only shook his dazed head. “No. We will not interrupt the interrogation… our research must be completed before you and your men are allowed to leave… And if you kill me now, you and your men will never find your way out of here alone.”

“Fine,” Kirk acknowledged. “Then if we can’t get out with or without your help, we’ll just all have to die together.” Roughly he racked the setting control of his phaser beyond the normal range. A tiny hum vibrated from the weapon, as Kirk calmly informed his prisoners, “Right now this phaser is set to overload. In one minute it will detonate and blow us all to bits.” He shifted the weapon back to Thann who started to step to one of the machines across the floor. “And if you try to operate your transporter to stop me, the energy cross-field will cause it to blow up right now. You wanted to learn about humans’ reactions – well, I hope you’re paying real close attention. What’ll it be, you bastards?” The whined heightened.

From the floor, Lal stared at him, hesitation on the old wrinkled face – hesitation and maybe fear? – but the alien said nothing.

Then suddenly from the outer darkness, a disembodied voice yelled insistently: “Jeezuschrist, Kirk, turn that goddamned thing off !!”

And the familiarity of that unexpected voice stunned Kirk nearly as hard as the phaser blast that had downed the Vian.

Two pairs of footsteps dashed toward him across the hard floor. Snapping the phaser off, Kirk stared in the direction of the onrushing commotion.

_to be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two men in Starfleet red-and-black ran into the spot-lighted area, pulled to a halt near Kirk, both breathing hard. The younger one, a white man, with the rank-pin of lieutenant; the other, a black man with short-cropped grey-flecked hair and moustache, wearing the insignia of Fleet Commander on the shoulder strap of his tunic.  
> It was the black man who held Kirk’s stunned attention.

Two men in Starfleet red-and-black ran into the spot-lighted area, pulled to a halt near Kirk, both breathing hard. The younger one, a white man, with the rank-pin of lieutenant; the other, a black man with short-cropped grey-flecked hair and moustache, wearing the insignia of Fleet Commander on the shoulder strap of his tunic.

It was the black man who held Kirk’s stunned attention. “Commander Morrow – Harry – what the hell’s going on?” he blurted.

“Goddammit, Kirk, I never expected you to pull something like that! Jeezuschrist, you scared the shit out of us!” Morrow was panting to regain his wind. “Damn, we thought all your weapons had been confiscated when you were initially examined.”

Kirk just stared at him in blank confusion. “What are you talking about, Harry? What’s going on around here?”

The second Vian, Thann, stood by his stricken friend. He spoke to Morrow. “This deception must end, Commander. We can no longer continue to assist you. None of the other tests went this far. You must tell your men the truth.”

“What truth?” Kirk demanded. “Tests? What is this all about?”

Morrow appropriated Kirk’s phaser, as though he might not trust Kirk not to use it, once the explanation was revealed. “I’m sorry, Captain, for putting you and your men through this,” the black man apologized formally, “but it had to be done.”

“ _What_ had to be done?”

“Starfleet is overseeing a series of tests upon the command teams of each of the twelve starships. The purpose is to ascertain if the close friendship among team members might become so strong as to supersede loyalty to Starfleet and the Federation. Your ship is the seventh to be tested.”

Kirk’s eyes pierced the man’s expression. “This was all just some goddamn test?? I almost killed a man just now – I almost killed all of us rather than betray the Federation! And one of my men _was_ killed – or weren’t you aware of that?”

Morrow nodded curt sympathy. “We know. When your security team was transported just before you, there was a slight equipment failure.”

 _“Slight_ ?!”

“The Vians have advanced medical techniques – they saved who they could, but Lieutenant Gorman was already dead. They removed his ruined heart and attempted to replace it with a device, but it was too late. I offer condolences for his death, but I don’t apologize for subjecting you and your men to this test. It was necessary.”

Kirk could barely hold off the gathering physical and mental fatigue and loss of emotional control. He felt the tiredness in his voice as he retorted bluntly, “I just hope that when the duty-officer delivers the word to Lieutenant Gorman’s mother, he at least pretends to sound more like a human being instead of some goddamn android.”

“Captain Kirk,” Morrow interrupted firmly, “you and your men will be assisted to the infirmary and cared for. Then at oh-two-hundred hours I will see you in my office for a debriefing.”

“Yes sir,” Kirk replied with as much respect-for-rank as he could muster just then.

* * * * *

Admiral Morrow’s office was a small, sparsely furnished room with large windows overlooking the testing area. Kirk stood at the windows now, taking in for the first time the fully-lit chamber of horrors below them. Spock and McCoy were still at whatever passed for an infirmary in this alien place: Spock in a healing trance; McCoy undergoing some type of Vian therapy which would remold his disintegrated arm bones. When Kirk’s debriefing was finished, they would all be returned to the Enterprise – the three of them plus the remaining members of the security team. Gorman’s body would be listed as irretrievable – a not-uncommon explanation given to surviving family members of a service-member lost in space.

Morrow sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, without the barrier of the desk between him and Kirk. “Jim,” he explained patiently, as though he’d had this conversation numerous times before, “the test was necessary. It’s important to continually determine how top command officers will respond in prisoner-of-war and hostage situations and other stressful experiences. You know that. Loyalty and regard among members of a command team is essential for effective command; however, too-close or too-intimate regard between officers can possibly compromise command judgments. And you and your top personnel are known to be quite… tightly-knit.”

Kirk felt his throat clamp down on some insubordinate comment. Instead he managed, “Obviously you’re hinting at favoritism in my decisions and my relationships with my crew. Since when has ‘Fleet Command questioned my judgment? And when did I ever jeopardize the Federation?”

“Dammit, Jim, your judgment regarding your first-officer _has_ been questioned a number of times. I admit, each time that you disobeyed orders on his behalf you were ultimately exonerated, but last time it cost you your admiralty. Of course up ‘til now, Command has been unaware that you and Captain Spock share… sexual favors…”

 _“That_ is none of Command’s business!”

“It’s every bit Command’s business! A command officer involved in… less-than-appropriate proceedings is liable to hostage attempts or blackmail threats… or counter-espionage offers. Tell me, are your liaisons with Spock just casual, or are they something more? How permanent is your relationship?”

“Goddammit, Harry, that’s personal.”

“You’re damn right it’s personal. And you’re going to have to answer it, if you want to retain your commission. Do you think that the rest of us are ignorant regarding Vulcan physiology and psychology? As close as you two are, it’s not out of the question that you’ve bonded permanently. Is that what’s happened?”

“Harry…”

“Is that what’s happened?”

“Yes! But don’t think for even one goddamn minute that either one of us would ever sell out the Federation! We’re fully aware of our loyalty and duty oaths.”

Morrow nodded, satisfied. “That’s what we had to test.”

Tension knotted Kirk’s muscles. An ache throbbed in the back of his head. He looked back out the window, unable to keep his gaze on the other man in the room. “You tortured my first-officer and my CMO.”

“Neither was permanently injured. Captain Spock is healing, and the Vians are repairing Doctor McCoy’s arm.”

“That’s not the goddamn point!”

“Lower your voice, Captain!”

Angrily Kirk shut up.

Morrow’s voice calmed back down too. “No, I don’t believe that you’d ever willingly sell out the Federation. But we had to find out if you had a breaking point. The test was only going to last a little while longer. Then all would have been revealed to you and your men.”

A barely-suppressed deprecatory sigh escaped Kirk’s nostrils. He thought better of speaking out for a brief moment. Then he inquired: “The Vians – what have they got to do with all this? Who are they?”

“They’re a race from the Ybon system, as they told you. Some time ago, they mistook the scientific base on this planet for an enemy encampment, and destroyed it. When they realized their error, they contacted the Federation and apologized, insisting they had no intention whatsoever of engaging in war between us, and offered to make amends. Starfleet requested they assist with this test. The idea was to bring our personnel into a totally alien and hostile situation, and observe their reactions. The fact that the Vians were a completely unknown species to the troops involved enhanced the circumstances.”

“And you’re still going to subject the last five command teams to this grotesquery?”

The commander nodded. “All starships are to be tested. Of course, it won’t be exactly the same as what you and your personnel have experienced. Your situation with Captain Spock is… unique.”

– _you hope_ – Kirk thought, but didn’t voice it.

Morrow issued an admonition. “And of course, all tested personnel are under strict orders not to speak a word regarding the examination to anyone. Is that understood, Captain?”

Kirk’s lips tightened grimly. “Yes, sir.” He glared at his superior. “So, did the Enterprise pass or fail? And now does Starfleet intend to withdraw my command or my commission – or Captain’s Spock's – because of the ‘less-than-appropriate proceedings’ between us? I think we deserve to know that at least, after all that ‘Fleet just put us through.”

Morrow returned the direct look. “You passed the exam; but as for your relationship with Spock, I can’t answer that yet, Jim. If it is deemed not to be a threat to the Federation, no more will be said. After all, you’ve each been with ‘Fleet for more than forty years, and you’ve run a very tight ship for twenty-five of those years. You and Captain Spock have created a highly efficient command team together, and Starfleet has no desire to disrupt such a successful union to its own detriment.”

“Of course not,” Kirk agreed dryly.

Morrow didn’t miss the angry sarcasm. “And of course, I’m sure that you and Spock have the good sense not to flaunt it, if Starfleet does choose to overlook your… arrangement.”

“Don’t worry,” Kirk assured, barely restraining himself. “We won’t embarrass anyone.”

Then rising from his chair, Morrow stepped over to Kirk. “You can go back to your ship now with your men. And Jim, I _am_ sorry about your security man Gorman, and I realize the situation was very rough on all of you. Please offer my condolences to Captain Spock and Doctor McCoy.”

“I’ll tell them,” Kirk acknowledged. All he really wanted to do right then was go back home to the Enterprise and leave this hell-hole behind.

* * * * *

_to be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bathroom door opened, and Spock stepped through from his cabin. He’d just gotten out of the shower, and now wore only a towel cinched about his waist. Compassionately he watched the figure lying on the bed.  
> “Jim” he offered, “would you like some company tonight?”

The first night back on the Enterprise, the entire landing party stayed in Sickbay. The second night, Doctor Chapel allowed Kirk and Spock to return to their quarters.

Kirk lay face-down in bed in his own cabin, pillow crumpled beneath his chin.

Anger, so much anger. Harry Morrow was head of Starfleet – he had had the final say on how far the test would be able to go. Which meant that the torture had taken place with his authorization. Kirk had known the man for seventeen years, and he never would have thought that Morrow could ever have condoned such heinous acts. Obviously a revisal of opinion regarding the man was due. Kirk even wondered, if he hadn't aborted the horror when he did, would Morrow have allowed the Vians to actually carry through with their threatened rape of Kirk in front of Spock?

Kirk wondered a lot about that.

The bathroom door opened, and Spock stepped through from his cabin. He’d just gotten out of the shower, and now wore only a towel cinched about his waist. Compassionately he watched the figure lying on the bed.

“Jim” he offered gently, “would you like some company tonight?”

Releasing his death-grip on the pillow, Kirk squirmed over a little to make room on the mattress. “Sure, c’mon in. Although I can’t promise that I’m in the best of moods this evening.”

Spock sat down on the bed. “That is understandable.” He reached a comforting squeezing hand to Kirk’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jim. I’ve caused you trouble.”

“No, Spock, not you.”

The hand drifted over Kirk’s bare back, massaging a little, soothing mostly. “The bonding between us was inevitable from the first time we met. It is a part of Vulcan psychology that when a Vulcan becomes involved at such a depth with another being, union begins to form. And then if the two join in continuing mind-melds, the union strengthens until the two become irrevocably bonded on all levels.”

“I know, Spock, I don’t regret it. In fact, it’s the one part of these past few days that I don’t regret.”

Strong slender fingers worked circles across the broad back and shoulders, down either side of the spine, then back up again to the nape. “You realize that Commander Morrow’s concerns are valid,” he mentioned. “The bond is stronger than our pledge to Starfleet. It will only continue to deepen now, yoking us even on spiritual planes. It will more and more take precedence over more-temporal matters.”

Kirk rolled over so that he could touch his bed-partner, run a stroking hand over a smooth hairless arm. “As long as I’m in command of the Enterprise, or any other ship, I will carry out whatever decisions I deem necessary to secure the safety of the crew and ensure a successful mission. You would do no less.” His touch moved to a bare chest. “But I will remain in command only so long as you are by my side. If ever I were to lose you, or if ‘Fleet ever forces me to choose between my commission and you, I’ll relinquish my ties with Starfleet without even a second thought.” A frown tightened his face. “Goddamn him.”

Spock lay on his side beside Kirk, propped up on one elbow. Taking Kirk’s hand in his, he studied the prominent vein-ridges, rubbed a thumb across the scattered pigment spots as if he could wipe them away and the years they signified. “It’s over now, Jim,” he calmed. “Don’t allow it to occupy your mind any longer.”

Kirk shook his head. “It’s not over, Spock. McCoy is still hurt, despite whatever medical miracles the Vians performed, and I know what you went through, at least the part that got past your shields. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Morrow fully intended to let them rape me before he called a stop to things.”

“I do not believe that the commander would have allowed it to progress to such extremes,” Spock doubted.

“I’m not sure he wouldn’t,” Kirk countered. “He admitted that the test wasn’t through when I just happened to introduce the unexpected factor of a live phaser…” A sharp breath released; with his free hand, he squeezed the bridge of his nose. “… damn!... I nearly killed us all, just because of some goddamn play-acting by Starfleet…” He turned his face away, felt Spock's fingers pull gently, aimlessly at his hair. “You know,” he admitted, “I have half-a-mind to turn in my bars and resign right in front of Morrow’s face.”

Spock continued fingering grey-flecked brown curls. “What good would that accomplish?”

Kirk shook his head. “None,” he acknowledged.

A hand stroked soothingly across his chest, a gentle husky voice in his ear, “Would it ease you to make love tonight?”

Glancing back into the deeply-lined angular face hovering near, Kirk smiled a humorless smile and nodded briefly. “Yeah. I just hope you won’t be disappointed if I can’t get much up right now.”

Thin lips touched his own maturely-lined face. “We shall make do with whatever we have,” his first-officer assured.

Lips met, tongues prodded wetly; and Kirk did feel a stirring in his loins, tiny stings of excitement in the nerve endings of his genitals. Helplessly he moaned, head lolled back, and Spock moved presumptively over the thick-set body beneath, straddled it, grasped two fistfuls of curls and tilted the head back even further, then intruded an exploring tongue deep into Kirk's mouth.

And Kirk sensed another stirring in his mind as the mate-link opened wider between them, and warmth flooded his being, glad and soothing, comforting some of the still-raw places.

… _Spock_ … he smiled into the bond.

… _do not speak, Jim_ … Spock's own smile answered… _go beyond the need for words_ …

Kirk moaned aloud. Their tongues touched, rubbed together, licked parted lips. Spock's right hand released its grip in light-brown waves to stroke down over a slightly sweat-tacky chest again, pluck lightly through a scattering of greying hairs, find a soft nipple to pinch. Kirk moaned again. A fingertip rubbed the little bump to hardness, then gliding across slight pectoral swell, found the other nub to tug and pinch playfully; and almost involuntarily Kirk thrust his hips up against spraddling thighs. Through Spock's towel, Kirk could feel the enlarging Vulcan organ bob against his own responding flesh.

Urgently he pulled off the interfering towel, dropped it off the side of the bed, then pushed a fondling hand up between the slender muscular thighs. And now it was Spock's turn to moan as the wonderfully tormenting fingers prodded the sensitive mass of his testicles dangling heavily. Ever so desirously the fingers stroked, squeezed, manipulated the twin testes in their loose fleshy scrotal sac.

Spock's head dropped helplessly to Kirk’s shoulder. “… Jim…!” he gasped past the tightness of his throat. His hips moved tautly to assist the sensation of Kirk’s ministrations.

Kirk continued to play with the swelling items, pressed the heavy sac up against the thick engorging column thrusting over it, then slipped his touch to the cock itself, rubbed the under-side longitudinal ridge up to the flared edge of the glans. There he burrowed his finger into the flesh just beneath the blood-darkened flange – that was the tenderest part of his own anatomy, so he guessed it might be pretty sensitive on a Vulcan too – and was rewarded with a gasp and a tiny spurt of pre-ejaculate, which continued to dribble out of the small opening and run down the shaft and his fingers.

“Jim!” Spock moaned again, breath trembling. “I will… come very quickly… if you continue to… touch me like that…”

Kirk smiled as the tension from the previous few days began to ebb away. “Stop showing off like an eighteen-year-old,” he bantered. “I’m nowhere near that fast anymore. I’m an old man these days.” His hands slid over the curve of hard-muscled buttocks now sweat-slicked. “So I’d appreciate it if you’d get to work and help me so we can come together.”

Another groan, then Spock pushed himself down on the bed to the level of Kirk’s hips, then took hold of his bed-mate and rolled the human over. “You are not an ‘old man’, Jim. We are both only in our fifth decade – ”

“ – _late_ in our fifth decade,” Kirk amended. “I don’t know about Vulcans, but for humans that’s considered somewhat past sexual prime.” And he allowed himself to be manipulated onto his knees, thighs spread apart, head down, ass up.

Spock kissed one gluteal mound. “I do not consider your sexual performance to be lacking in any regard,” he assured, and went to work.

Kirk moaned pleasure. Vicariously his organs had begun to engorge as he had fondled Spock; now they dangled partially erect between his legs. Strong hands gripped his buttocks, squeezed them, spread them. And the next thing Kirk knew, a long firm tongue licked his anus. Abruptly his whole body jerked; the tender little sphincter tightened reactively, and jags of electricity sizzled all the way up his spine.

– dear lord, in all his years, nobody had ever kissed him like that before! – and sweat popped out all over his skin, as he squirmed in erotic delight. More hot blood surged into his swelling flesh; now his testicles were feeling the weight, hanging pendulous and a little uncomfortable; and his throbbing penis, pointing half-erect toward his belly, jiggled with every slight movement.

Spock pulled back a mere couple of inches, excited breath panting arrhythmically on Kirk’s vulnerable little opening, send hot-cold shivers all through the human. Another calculated swipe of eager tongue, making Kirk jerk involuntarily, while a warm Vulcan hand came up to fondle and heft the valuable package dangling so unprotected and helpless between thighs quivering with muscle fatigue.

And then Spock reached with the other hand to take the rose-flushed shaft in hand and begin slow sensual pumping, encircling grip rhythmically tightening, loosening, tightening again, sliding the loose skin back and forth over the stiffening flesh inside. And still he continued to massage the scrotal sac, rub it all around, while Kirk felt very sure that every muscle in his body was melting into jelly, and spider-touches of ecstasy raced up his spine. The grip on his penis slid up to the glans, light fingertips traced all over the slick spongy head, so gentle and sweet; Kirk tried to regulate his breathing, catching it sharply when one exploring touch found the meatal opening and lingered there, playing and rubbing, pressing into the inner mucous membrane just a fraction as though teasing to penetrate, and Kirk released a helpless little cry of sensation, clutching once more at the pillow beneath his face. Hips jerked in spasmic response, and he could feel a warm droplet of pre-sem leak from the stimulated channel. Then the caressing fingertips rubbed the creamy drop all over the glans, then slid back down the shaft, the balls, spread out over the buttocks once more, and jerked him a couple of inches backward to press against an eager groin waiting impatiently.

“Now are you sufficiently aroused?” a deep raspy voice inquired solicitously.

Kirk could hardly catch his breath. “Oh yes…” he murmured happily. “I am definitely aroused and ready, Spock… so please, either finish me off with your hand or your mouth… or let me get inside you right now…”

“I thought the idea was for us to com e together,” the Vulcan reminded.

“Then get yourself down here so we can suck each other off.”

From behind, the leaking Vulcan cock pushed between his legs, rubbed presumptively along his crotch, against his begging genitals, smearing his skin slickly. “Perhaps I shall make you wait,” Spock suggested instead. The thick shaft rubbed up and down exposed gluteal cleavage, leaving a smear of viscid fluid. The touch once again to a sensitive puckered anus almost made Kirk lose it all right then and there.

“… Spock!...”

“Very well,” Kirk’s bed-partner acquiesced easily. And then lying down supine behind Kirk’s hunched body, Spock slid his head between spread thighs, then took Kirk’s buttocks again and pushed the fully erect human organ to him.

“Spock!...” Kirk gasped as thin Vulcan lips then deliberately by-passed the dripping shaft and laid a kiss on his belly. Another kiss, then another, everywhere except on the target spot. And then little tongue-licks on his quivering abdomen nearly did him in before he ever made it into the hot wet mouth. “Spock…” he gasped again, “you better… stop fooling around and take me right away… or I’m going to come all over your face!...”

“Indeed,” was all the Vulcan had to say, then took the hard cock into his mouth and sucked strongly.

Kirk moaned in utter dissolution of control; began pumping in counterpoint to Spock's eager tongue-massage. Powerful tingles of delight stung ever-so-sensitive nerve endings. “Spock,” he whispered, “turn around so I can take you too..”

“Mm mm,” Spock refused, mouth filled with Kirk’s manhood. Hungrily he worked the heavy thickness with tongue and teeth, tasting all along the underside as Kirk rammed it in, as far in as Spock could take it.

Such warm wet suction, the playful threat of teeth raking ever so lightly as the shaft worked vigorously, so close to coming, so close, hips thrusting and thrusting, frantic for release.

And then suddenly Spock clutched his hips, held him immobile right on the edge of orgasm. Kirk hunched there, face buried in the pillow, desperate for climax, little gasps breaking from his throat; and Spock drew out the torment by tonguing the slit so desirously, taking his time, licking the oozing fluid, letting Kirk really feel the wet tongue work his opening, then prodding just beneath the glans, as Kirk had previously stimulated a certain Vulcan penis.

And Kirk lost all control then, genitals convulsed, squirting thick fluid into an eager mouth in a series of spasmic jerks, while Spock held the suction and took everything Kirk could give him into his mouth. Orgasm shuddered all through Kirk, lanced through every nerve, scintillating explosion behind his eyes; and in the bond he could feel Spock picking up his sensations, enjoying the human orgasm from both viewpoints.

Finally the ecstasy attenuated, faded; and limply Kirk rolled off his lover. Gasping for breath, slick with sweat, he lay face-up on the bed, grinning contentedly up at the ceiling. He glanced over at Vulcan watching him with a smile of his own.

“Well,” the satisfied human decided, “for a couple of old men, we do pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t say we were a couple of ‘old men’,” Spock insisted, “and besides, I haven’t had my chance to do anything yet, well or not. So I’d appreciate it if you would roll over, Jim, and allow me my pleasure.”

Kirk stretched lazily, and compliantly turned over onto his belly. “Take your pleasure, Captain.”

“I shall, Captain.” And once again Spock knelt behind him, pushed his ass up, kneed his thighs apart, spread the gluteal mounds with strong hands.

“Mmm, Spock,” Kirk purred, still floating in post-coital lassitude, “this seems to be your favorite view of your commanding officer.”

“It is,” Spock admitted willingly. “Are you relaxed now, Jim?”

Another moan of pleasure. “I am very relaxed, my friend.”

“Good. Then you should be ready for me.”

“I am very ready for you.”

The wet Vulcan cock touched his anus. Kirk squirmed a little, let out another moan, and amended his previous statement, “I _think_ I’m ready for you. You’re so big.”

“Not too big to put it inside you.” The oozing glans demanded pressing entry.

“No, not too big… ohh!” Kirk agreed, and gasped when the full slick head pushed through the sphincter. “… oh god, Spock… that’s good!...” Sensually he squirmed back against the firm slick object pushing into his rectum. “… god, Spock…”

“Your comments are rather reiterative,” Spock noted, gripping the pale hips, thrusting gently, a little at a time, pushing his probe ever further inward. Incredible sensation washed over both of them. “Do you like this, Jim?”

“I love it. Just don’t stop, whatever you do.”

“I don’t intend to.” Spock slid his keenly sensitive organ in and out of the slippery hot channel, in and out, the sphincter squeezintg his swollen flesh so arousingly, wonderful little tingles dancing all through his genitals, power building with each plunge deeper into the vulnerable intimate center of his mate. Exquisite pleasure shimmered in his loins, pulsated in his cock-head, ramming further in, sliding back and forth in the creamy pre-sem and mucus lubricating the human rectum. Spock breathed through his mouth, his whole being centered on the incredible sensation between his legs.

And Kirk felt so helplessly, so deliciously submissive in the strong grasp of his partner, strong thin fingers clutching his pelvic bones, jerking his ass back rhythmically to take the huge ram-rod inside. And then the plunging interrupted, and he felt himself gripped back against the body behind him, as Spock writhed and wriggled the last few seconds to orgasm. And Kirk felt the Vulcan balls jiggling against his own, felt the wiry pubic hair brushing the sensitive skin between his buttocks, felt the shaft deep inside him prod his prostate again and again in tormenting jabs of pain-pleasure which coursed right through his body and gathered in his crotch to teasingly stimulate his fatigued cock. He smiled a wincing smile to himself: he couldn’t have gotten it up again even though he wanted to, although he knew that Spock, even at age fifty-seven, was good for several orgasms a night. Maybe because Vulcans normally didn’t engage in sex very often, they made sure they got the most out of it when they did.

And now Spock's thrusts intensified once more in the final build-up. Rapid jerky thrusts, powerful, bucking hard, and Kirk’s body bucked too, each power-stroke nearly lifting him off his knees. Hard, frantic, Spock raggedly gasping his need, a crescendo of energy, primitive and primal, genitals spasming tightly, squirting and squirting, bursts of thick hot fluid lavaging the human’s accommodating passage. Violent tremors shook Spock's body, wildly rocking Kirk’s beneath… lingering, lingering… and then they were gone, and Spock lay limply over Kirk’s back, dragging ragged gasps, dripping sweat.

Slowly, stiffly, Kirk straightened his legs behind himself to lie down flat on the mattress beneath Spock's weight. The maneuver caused the partially-flaccid penis up his ass to stimulate his prostate again, and Kirk released a tiny involuntary chuckle of pleasure. “… Spock…” he murmured, moving his hips slightly to maintain the gentle internal massage, “you feel good, did you know that?”

Thin lips kissed brown curls. “I feel very good right now,” his partner agreed.

“Mm, that’s nice… but that’s not what I meant.”

The organ moved inside him a little more. “You feel good as well. I wish to remain inside you tonight. I swallowed your fluid, so now I want you to retain mine for awhile.”

“That’s fine with me.” Kirk slid again on the slippery shaft filling his insides, felt some of the semen ooze out around his anus and smear his cleavage. Another wave of pleasure washed over him, filtered through the bond. “Do you suppose,” he commented, “that McCoy has figured out about us?”

His partner’s face settled against the side of his head. “No doubt he has. The doctor is very astute.”

Kirk folded his hands beneath his chin, seriousness tingeing his pleasure now. “I hope Bones is doing all right tonight, after what those bastards did to him.”

“He is healing, Jim. We’re all healing.”

A derisive sound breathed from Kirk’s nostrils. “I just wonder what other dirty little games Morrow has in store for us in the future. You know, it’s strange how we all sensed something wasn’t right about this mission, but none of us dreamed that Starfleet was the culprit. Interesting that Starfleet wanted to test our loyalty to it, but in doing so, put its own loyalty to us in question.”

“I agree,” Spock answered simply.

“And I wonder too about those Vians – they had nothing against us, yet they were willing to torture us at Morrow’s request, willing to play his flunkies, do his dirty work for him.”

Spock's hand stroked aimlessly over Kirk’s flank. “Jim,” he reminded, “as I mentioned during the ordeal, we do not know fully what the Vians’ motivation was, other than what Commander Morrow told you. As the Vians are an unknown civilization to us at this time, we cannot make assumptions regarding their social mores and ethics.”

“You’re pretty forgiving after they brutalized your mind and injured others of our crew.”

“Forgiveness is not the point of my remark. I do not condone what they or Commander Morrow did. I am merely stating that we do not know why the Vians did what they did.”

“Hell, I don’t even know why Morrow did what he did, and I would have thought at least that I understood _his_ morality.”

Spock's warmth transmitted through the link. “Recrimination is not relevant at this point. Later, if you wish to demand inquiry into Morrow’s actions, you have the authority to approach the Council President. For now it is best that you sleep. Allow me into your mind, my bond-mate.”

“You’re already there,” Kirk acknowledged. He felt Spock kiss the side of his head, felt the heavy body-weight lying on top of him. The pleasant sensations of the large organ filling his ass and the link-tendrils filling this thoughts satisfied him, and Kirk settled into the sanctuary of his mate’s mind and body.

* * * * * **FINIS** * * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> credit to: Star Trek ep 03-12 “The Empath” by Joyce Muskat 12-06-68  
> The Outer Limits ep 01-10 “Nightmare” by Joseph Stefano 12-02-63


End file.
